


I Got Two On Hand

by karmascars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dean Being Nasty, Frenzied Kisses, M/M, Shameless, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:26:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmascars/pseuds/karmascars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it sounds like. Shameless little smut ficlet wherein Dean has Cas and Sam... on hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Got Two On Hand

There's something weird on the radio, but none of them can hear it.

The TV is one of the old kind, the boxy ones that emit a high-pitched whine even on mute. They can't hear that, either.

A neighbor may be knocking, trying to shut them up, or even just in sympathy. There's definitely no hearing that, not with the headboard slamming into the wall like it has been for the past half hour. They're a percussion section playing just their bed.

But, Dean grins to himself, tongue peeking between his lips – that's definitely those sweet folks in 212, kicking up their own mess in competition. He's not worried. They're far from done in here.

He strokes the middle finger of his left hand across Sam's prostate and knocks a new stuttered keen from his brother's throat, brush of a hairy leg across his forearm. Losing control of his limbs again. “Dude, you gotta hold 'em _up_ ,” Dean chastises, mostly reflexive teasing by now. He's focused elsewhere. Even as Sam chokes, “I'm – trying, Dean, _Jesus_ \--” Dean is studying the slide of his right hand's first three fingers into Castiel, wondering how the hell he's supposed to add more lube. Neither hand wants to leave where it's buried in tight, silken heat, not when it clings to his fingers like that.

They're folded up so pretty, Cas with his legs held steadily thigh-to-chest, his face barely visible beyond them and locked in a rictus of pleasure. Guttural noises rain to either side as he tosses his head, hair stringy and so dark in a halo on the pillow around him. All that pale skin beneath Dean's hands, beneath Sam's when Dean's were busier elsewhere. And Sam, _fuck_ , Sam is so _long_ and so golden beside him, arms and legs Dean watched expand over the years shaking with the effort to hold themselves in place.

Dean's kneeling at their feet, buried fingers in both of them, working them open all under his own power. He does feel powerful. An angel and the only family he's got, strung out shrieking and all because of him...

It's a heady aphrodisiac, this tableau.

Playing their prostates together, Dean revels in sweet twin cries, Sam going higher and Cas going lower and all of it going straight to Dean's weeping cock. He ruts forward, can't help it, flushed skin meeting nothing but air. That's okay. He adds another finger in each clenching hole, wincing at the drying catch and pull of skin. Neither of them seem to have noticed, but for how long? Can't feel good, the stretch and burn. 

Just because Dean likes it himself sometimes, doesn't mean these do.

Then “Oh, _fuck!”_ Castiel bites, back arching, teeth snapping, the tendons in his neck like ropes beneath his skin. Dean repeats the move, a jab and stroke, the angel writhing like his world is ending. Dean tries it with Sam, and his brother moans, but what really gets him screaming is when Dean pulls out to the tips of his fingers and thrusts back in. “Shhhh _it_ , Dean,” punches out of him, desperate grunts to follow, fingers scrabbling at the comforter, at Castiel. Sam is rolling so Dean lets him, folding the other yards-long leg out of the way. Sam ruts his dick into Castiel's thigh, his waist, groans torn long and frantic from between clenched teeth. Dean licks his lips at the sight.

He bites his tongue when Castiel reaches for Sam's cock and tugs, precome easing the slide into something fast, hotter than the light bulbs that flicker when Sam does the same to him. 

Dean adds his thumb to Cas because he knows the angel can take it, forming more of a fist with every thrust. Castiel builds a keen that becomes Dean's name, bucking his flushed cock through the tunnel of Sam's hand. He and Sam have managed to match their rhythm, hands and hips working in tandem, til Dean is following them instead. He aims for deeper with both of them, paying special attention to his brother's prostate, knowing that when Sam gets desperate –

Yeah, there it is, the younger Winchester lunges across the scant distance to capture Castiel's lips with a fevered groan. The kiss became nasty almost instantly, tongues flashing between open mouths, terrible angle setting teeth clacking. Dean is panting, mouth hanging open. His dick weeps precome, angrily hard. He watches, and oh, he wants.

Sam comes first with a noise like he's dying, flopping around and groaning into Castiel's mouth, spilling into the angel's hand. Dean makes sure he's on the kid's prostate the whole time, milking his orgasm until Sam begs him to stop –

 _Fuck it_ , he pulls his hand from Castiel, grabs the lube and slicks himself up. He's buried in that otherworldly heat before he can even draw his next breath, and then he's thrusting, gasping, his vision blurring. “ _Fuck_ , Cas,” he hears himself saying, over and over, “Cas, Cas, Cas...”

The angel torques his hips back and meets his thrusts, slap of skin rising over the creak and slam of the bed, the ambient noise of highway and radio. Dean's mantra weaves through it all, Castiel reduced to animal noises beneath the onslaught. The heat of him is incredible, tight channel burning through Dean's dick and reducing his will to cinders. He fucks the angel like he can't fuck anyone else, not even Sam, he lets himself go and spears Cas through until the angel can't even squeal anymore, just gasps, bounces and fucking _takes it_.

There are times when Dean wonders if he'll break his pelvis against the iron will of Castiel's, human vessel strengthened to be a titan. He's woken from these encounters with the most insane bruises, which Castiel will just smirk and heal – only to remake them the following night. He's a live wire, this angel of Dean's. He bites his lip and propels himself down, sharp smacks of flesh. Dean's grunts may sound pained, but he's in a world of pleasure, warmth running over all his nerves and follicles at once and singing through his blood. He's reaching for the bright burning ember that glows in each of Castiel's blown, blue eyes. His mind races –

Sam drags his nails down Dean's back. Dean hadn't even felt or seen his brother move, and the sensation is purely electric. His shout echoes, is echoed by Castiel, a warm dirty hum of satisfaction from Sam at his back.

In the end, it's his brother's breath on tender skin that launches him over the edge.

Dean comes with a snarl that's wrenched from him in shattered waves, head tossed back and rolling, entire body one enormous tingle. He's shaking, but he's removed, doesn't really feel Sam's hands on his skin, Castiel's body clenching around him. 

The angel comes with a strangled moan that Dean most definitely hears. 

That wanton sound rolls down his body, into the core of him, pulling a shudder out into his fingers and toes. His teeth clack, his dick spits a little more come into Castiel. Dean slumps forward into the angel's waiting arms. 

As he is returning, slowly, he's rolled to the side. Castiel slots in front, and Sam nudges up behind. Arms, legs, nuzzling faces. This is his reality. He can be content here, like this, so he allows himself to relax.

Sleep, when it finds him, sounds like Guns N' Roses, and the whine of an old TV.

*FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> If you liked this fic, please consider leaving kudos/a comment. I really appreciate feedback. ♥


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